


Shinsenvember

by Findarato



Category: Hakuouki
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-01-28 08:16:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12602256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Findarato/pseuds/Findarato
Summary: Fics written for Shinsenvember, prompt list foundhere.Entries are first posted on tumblr and then later updated to here. Chapter Titles will list characters/pairings.





	1. The Pale Blue Haori (Saitou/Chizuru, post-canon)

**Author's Note:**

> This first one is Chizuru/Saitou, set some time after the ending of route. It’s Shinkai compliant, but there’s no spoilers and is intended for all audiences.

 

**. ******

When taking things out of storage for cleaning, she had found it—the asagi-iro peeked out from underneath dusty sheets, a little faded, but still a strong colour—much like the first day she saw it. ** **  
****  
He had been the first, too, for her to meet. Or rather, she saw his sword before she saw his back, the sleeves billowing out as he killed those two rasetsu. Saitou had a way of making first impressions.  
  
Chizuru sneezes as she pulls it out of the box. Where had he kept this before they moved here, anyway? He had carried very little when they were on the move. Maybe he left it with someone for safekeeping? There had been the banner with the makoto symbol that he had in his possessions, but not the haori. Either way, it’s here, and it brings back so many memories—bloodstains, laundry, mending…she knows it’s silly, but she lifts it up anyway to her nose. It doesn’t carry his scent anymore or any trace of history, only the hint of dust and fabric—she sneezes again and finally stands up.  
  
Maybe he had forgotten it was here. But she’s going to wash it anyway, before the mice or moths got to it. Saitou had kept it so well folded, creased properly and the strings in a neat knot. Maybe he’ll want to see it again.  
  
There was a time it had made her fear, or overwhelmed. The Shinsengumi were marked by their uniforms, and probably the colours as well. Chizuru remembers asking someone whose idea it had been, and they merely gave a name that she didn’t recognise. But whomever it was, they clearly had some premonition, some inkling of how important a uniform is. All of them had two, of course—there was the black and white one that was more commonly worn. But Saitou hadn’t kept that one.  
  
As she walks outside, the air was cold but fresh and slightly windy; a good day for laundry. The breeze tugs at her, and she looks down at the haori in her hands and has an idea.  
  
She wouldn’t have been allowed to, but the time of the Shinsengumi was over. Without a second thought, she shakes it out and pulls it over her shoulders. The wind catches it perfectly, and she imagines herself walking side by side them, out on a patrol in Kyoto…  
  
Nothing tastes as sweet or bitter as nostalgia, and she closes her eyes and twirls with the wind, feeling as if she were young again. Young, setting out for her journey, and very unready for the fate and the paths she would cross.  
  
Gravity is not a friend; Chizuru finds herself trip and she opens her eyes to catch herself, only to fall against something…no, someone, who puts their hands on her shoulders.  
  
“Ah, Haj—” Flustered, she smoothes her hair down.  
  
“Chizuru.”  
  
“Hajime-san. You’re back early.” This was unexpected, and embarrassing. She hadn’t even heard him coming, but that’s something he’s always been good at. Like how when he doesn’t want to read, he leaves almost nothing today.  
  
“There was an unannounced holiday,” he says, voice as calm as ever.  
  
“I see.” That would make sense. She glances at herself, then back up at Saitou. “Did you eat? I can prepare lunch.”  
  
“I’m fine.”  
  
“I see.” With another self-conscious look, she starts to slip the haori off. “I found it in a box and thought I’d wash it, but I…” Her face is probably red. “I got distracted.”  
  
“It suits you.”  
  
“What?” Did she hear him right?  
  
“It suits you,” he repeats, candid and straightforward. He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, fingers lingering. “That shade of blue.”  
  
She hadn’t been worried that he would angry, but she had wondered how he’d feel about the memories. “Thank you. I didn’t plan this, but it ended up happening.”  
  
Saitou makes a sound that passes for amusement, and before she can react, he fixes the himo and drawn it over her back, gesturing for her to slip her arms into the sleeves. She does that, and finds it’s only slightly large on her frame.  
  
“Do you think I could’ve passed for a boy better with this on?”  
  
“Maybe. As a page, you technically would be allowed to own one, but I don’t think it crossed our minds back then.”  
  
“It didn’t cross mine, either.” She rubs the edge of the sleeve, where the white triangles met blue. “I didn’t feel like a part of the Shinsengumi at first.”  
  
“None of us were exactly…welcome.” Saitou clears his throat, and casts his gaze a little lower. “We didn’t trust you yet.”  
  
“I knew but—I’m not mad!” Chizuru quickly interjects. “It’s understandable, with who my father was. I didn’t feel mistreated.”  
  
Saitou looks as if he wants to say more on the matter, but he leaves it in favour of taking her hands. “By the end of it all, if we were still wearing them, I think everyone would allow you to have one.” His eyes catch hers as he smiles. “You had the spirit that this uniform embodied.”  
  
She feels herself blush more. Coming from Saitou, that’s a lot. The only people to top that would be Hijikata or Kondou, but…Saitou saying it is worth hearing. “Thank you,” she says, heart fluttering, as if they hadn’t been together for several years now, “Saitou-san.”  
  
“Hajime-san,” he says, out of habit, though his smile doesn’t leave his face.  
  
A laugh escapes her, and she nudges him back. “Hajime-san.” Force of habit still has her being formal with him sometimes. Maybe that moment she felt it was called her. Getting a compliment from the Third Division Captain of the Shinsengumi is no small thing, after all. “I’ll go wash this now, and once it’s dry…I want to hang it up.” She wants to keep it with the banner.  
  
He nods, and brushes his fingers one final time over hers, before kissing her lightly. “I’ll make lunch,” he says, before disappearing into their house.  
  
Chizuru stays for a moment longer, haori hugging her as she squeezes her arms tightly and slowly exhales. She doesn’t feel the wind as much now, but she can feel it still tugging. It’s the same wind that led her to Kyoto, just like how this is the same haori she first saw.  
  
She twirls one last time for the memories, the haori rising up around her and surrounding her just like the feelings of bittersweetness did.  


 

******.end. ******** **


	2. Bakemono (Shinpachi and Heisuke, post-Remeiroku and pre-main game)

**.**

  
  
“Hey, Shinpattsuan?”  
  
“Yeah?” Half-distracted, he answers Heisuke out of habit.  
  
“What’re you reading?”  
  
“Something about strategy.”  
  
“How is it?”  
  
“Not bad.” A little boring; he picked it up months ago but put it aside because he’d been busy. “Nothing new in it.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
He glances over at Heisuke, who had been maintaining his sword because, as usual, he never remembered where he keeps his kit so he is here, borrowing Shinpachi’s. A contemplative, almost perturbed look is on his face—uncommon for him.  
  
Something’s eating him, for sure. Shinpachi pretends to go back to the book; which was beginning to get wordy and this author obviously had no battle expertise.  
  
“Say…Shinpattsuan…”  
  
A grunt, and he tosses the book onto his desk, watching it slide until it hits the wall. “Yeah.”  
  
“Do you think we’ve become monsters?”  
  
Now that’s certainly an interesting topic. “Monsters?”  
  
Heisuke rests his sword at his side, eyes somewhere outside. “I don’t mean by rasetsu. I just mean…generally. Have we become something not human?”  
  
“Well.” He rubs the back of his neck and head roughly. “Depends on whether or not we were human to begin with. Like I don’t think Saitou is human sometimes—he’s more…more, _mechanical?_ ”  
  
“Ha, ha.” But at least Heisuke isn’t frowning so much, and he’s finally looking at Shinpachi. “I mean about all this killing. The rules. The fact we’ve become this.” He gestures at the both of them.  
  
“We became what we’re supposed to be.”  
  
“What Hijikata-san wants us to be,” Heisuke corrects him.  
  
“That too, but we had goals. I think we’ve fulfilled some of them.” He stretches out his legs, and wiggles a toe. “This isn’t about killing, is it?”  
  
“Sort of.” Heisuke pulls his knees up to his chest and rests his chin atop. “The amount we’ve had to do since coming here, even after Serizawa-san is gone.”  
  
“You think it increased?”  
  
“I’ve stopped counting, if that’s what you mean.”  
  
Sometimes, he does forget that Heisuke is the youngest of their group, and that Saitou is the same age. “I never did,” he confesses easily. “It’s all in the past for me.” He remembers how angry he’d been about Serizawa’s death, and how for a week he’d been sniping at both Saitou and Hijikata, until Saitou got him so drunk he forgot how to think. Now, it doesn’t bother him. “Less for me to carry, right?”  
  
Heisuke lifts a shoulder and tilts his head. “For you. Me, I remember their faces.”  
  
“Does it bother you?”  
  
“I sleep fine, so it’s not that. I think—” he exhales slowly, “I’m bothered that it _doesn’t_ bother me. I know we have a job, and we’re supporting our causes, but do you think about what it all means when we’re dead?”  
  
Things sure had a way of getting heavy, didn’t they. Shinpachi reaches out and thumbs the pages of the book as he thinks of an answer. Why now, of all times. Maybe because the Shinsengumi were starting to get recognised. Maybe it had to do with Ibuki. Maybe it had to do with all the more recent laundry they ran into.  
  
“If I’m dead, I hope that I died either old or in battle. Those are the only two ways for a samurai to go, unless I had to gut myself for some reason.”  
  
“What about execution? We’re sanctioned, but maybe one day we won’t be.”  
  
“That depends on whether or not they catch me—or you.” He ruffles Heisuke’s hair and tugs on the end of it for good measure. “And you’re faster than me, so I think you’ll be fine.”  
  
Heisuke swats him. “Aargh, leave my hair alone.”  
  
“Hey, I’m doing this for your own good. You’re having too many dark thoughts, you know?”  
  
“Okay, okay.” He ducks and shifts away, but there’s finally a real smile on his face. “But you didn’t answer my question.”  
  
“About killing?”  
  
“If we’re monsters.”  
  
_Bakemono_. A widely used term to mean more of the supernatural, but humans had a way of yelling that word about things they were afraid of. “I don’t think we are,” he slowly says, his voice quieter than before. “Monsters are either things that can’t be killed, or people who kill because they get off on seeing people scream.”  
  
Which is honestly sick. Maybe the reason Hijikata wanted to send Souji back to Edo was because he’s afraid of something like that? But Souji, while he kills without restraint and is amused, doesn’t murder people in the dead of night because it turns him on. None of them are like that.  
  
“You’re a man like me, and we’re samurai.” No doubt about it, and it had more to do with his sword on rack and Heisuke’s by his side. “So, no.”  
  
“Just samurai, huh.”  
  
“Shinsengumi samurai.”  
  
“Right.” Heisuke seems satisfied by his answer, and he lies down, kicking his feet you. “Do you think we’ll change?”  
  
“Everyone does. We’re not the same group that left Edo. You, me, Sano, Souji, Saitou, Hijikata-san, Sannan-san, Kondou-san…” he drops all the names. “Right now things are pretty peaceful, but they’re not going to last.”  
  
He knows this because history said so, and because he keeps track of these things. When they patrolled, he always leads because that means he can walk and catch conversation before people noticed he was there and changed subjects. There’s so many factors at hand, and whether or not they wanted change, it would come.  
  
Looking at Heisuke, lying in the sun with his eyes closed, he almost wishes that change wouldn’t come. They’d all be swept up in it, and they probably wouldn’t be together.  
  
“Heisuke.” Time to break this mood.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“You won’t become a monster. You know why?” He smiles as widely as he can and leans in. “’Cause you’re too small to be a threat.”  
  
“Oh, you—”  
  
Shinpachi lets himself be tackled, their arms and feet tangling. Someone will come running soon enough to stop them.  
  
He doubts they’ll become monsters. At the very least, they’ll keep each other from becoming that.  


**.end.**


	3. Swords (Hijikata)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love swords.

**.**

  
  
“So you decided?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Are you sure you won’t consider—”  
  
“I’m sure of it. Believe me, Kondou-san.” Hijikata tips his mouth upwards. “I’ve seen and talked enough. I’m sure of what I want.”  
  
Kondou has the grace to look slightly ashamed. “I’ll still keep an eye out for something famous, if you want to start a collection.”  
  
“Who am I, Saitou?” He claps the other man on the back. “But thank you.”  
  
They share a laugh, and Hijikata goes on his way. He made an appointment, and he doesn’t like showing up late. He thought about bringing someone with him, but either they would be bored (Souji), or too interested (Saitou), or they would be talking about other matters (Kondou-san).  
  
This is more than just a gift to himself.  
  
This is the prospect of finally having his own commissioned sword. Not a borrowed one, not one that already had a history. He likes the thought of having a sword whose history started with him. Who knows—if the Shinsengumi got famous enough, his sword will be remembered as the weapon of someone unafraid to die.  
  
This is not disregarding his wakizashi, of course. That had been a gift, and one that he treasures. It’s served him well in so many cases, and even as he walks, he lays his hand against the tsuba. In a way, this one only had his history, as well, because he couldn’t find much information on this wakizashi. Saitou had offered, but Hijikata like thinking that his life began with this wakizashi, too.  
  
And now it’s time for an uchigatana. Or tachi. With the Shinsengumi’s reputation growing ever since the Ikedaya Incident as well as the Sanjou Seisatsu Incident. The money came in, and…well. When was the last time he spent money and time on himself? There were so many things to worry about, so he feels that he’s earned this.  
  
He greets the smith warmly enough, and they talk. As they do, his eyes wander the front of the store, and he wonders if he’s allowed in the back. They discuss matters, and he decides on the length. As for the design.  
  
“It’s not odd if I request it to be made like this, is it?” He pulls out his wakizashi and holds it towards the man.  
  
“And this is—”  
  
“A Horikawa Kunihiro.”  
  
“A good school.” Practiced hands feel the blade, turning it this way and that. “And no, it’s not uncommon to have a daishou made from two different swords. So…matching koshirae?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“I can do that.”  
  
“Good.” He puts his gratefulness into that word.  
  
“I’ll make some sketches then.”  
  
Hijikata nods, and then pauses. “Is it…fine if I return once in a while to watch?”  
  
The smith meets his gaze. “To watch?”  
  
“This is my first commission.” He doesn’t mind admitting this; they say swords are warrior souls, and before a creator, you can’t really have shame in admitting that. “I want to remember it.”  
  
“Ah…” Understanding crosses his face. “Yes, that’s all right.”  
  
Thank goodness he’s good at controlling his emotions, because he feels like some kid getting a new toy. He leaves reluctantly, hand on his wakizashi, and wishes time would pass faster.  
  


**-**

Six months pass quickly enough, and he’s been at the smith every two weeks. He missed the smelting, but he was there to see as much as he can…and with each step, it’s like he could feel himself in the sword.

One could compose so much poetry about blades and their beauty, and he now understand the pride a man has at owning their own sword that no one else has handled. This one is for him, and him only.

Hijikata barely contains his emotions when it’s handed to him, and he grips it tightly for a moment, to savour the tangibility.

The length suits his height, the weight of it perfect in his hands. The gold design on the saya stands out beautifully, and he lets his fingers trace over the kojiri. The colour of the saya matches, the same deep red as his Kunihiro. Lingering against the menuki, he finally grips the tsuka and unsheathes, breath catching in his throat when he sees it all.

Maybe this is why some people like Saitou had such respect for swords. He turns the blade this way and that, letting it catch the gleam of the sunlight from the window. The hamon, the edge…he can’t wait to test it. He was right to trust in a Kanesada.

“Are you satisfied?”

“Very,” he says, slowly slipping it back. “I came to the right person.” Compliments from him are rare, and he’s sure his reputation proceeds him, seeing how the smith bows low and murmurs his thanks.

He leaves with a new step in his stride, hands curled against both of his swords. Maybe now he’s a step closer to being the real thing. He doubts he’ll be passing his name to a son, much less another. His family is not of the samurai rank, and seeing the way events are going, he might very well die.

But at least he’ll die knowing he’s real, as real as the swords he carries at his side.

“I’ll treat you well,” he says, though he’s not in the habit of talking to objects. A sword is different. “Izuminokami.”

His life, his soul, are all right there.

**.end.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve tried to leave the timeline of this ambiguous because Hijikata talked about a Kanesada in 1863 in a letter, but Izuminokami’s forge year was 1867. Setting it post-Ikedaya and Sanjou Bridge seemed to make sense.


	4. Pigs and Pork (Hijikata and Chizuru)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Context for this prompt](http://hakuouki-history.tumblr.com/post/110740857824/meat-eating-in-japanese-history)

**.**

“Isn’t this like keeping pets?”  
  
“They’re not pets, they’re _food_.”  
  
“Food eating our food. Strange if you think about it. Do you think they’ll eat meat, too?”  
  
“Souji,” Hijikata groans. “If you’ve got time on your hands, go train. Go patrol. _Go away_.”  
  
“If you say so~” Souji waves at him, annoyingly cheerful, and leaves without much protest this time.  
  
Hijikata turns back to what he’s doing—staring at this group of five pigs, who seem to threaten the very space they’re in. This building, while it stood up to men, didn’t look safe to house pigs that were so large and probably, if they wanted to, could get out. At least they don’t look like they’ll be trying anytime soon; they’re more interested in the scraps he tossing out. Actually, it should’ve been Souji doing this. Why is he, the fukuchou, feeding pigs? Probably because literally all the other captains made excuses or were realistically occupied. And he wasn’t going to ask Kondou to do this…and so it’s ended up him.  
  
“Looks like you guys will have to put up with my company,” he says, more to himself than to the pigs. “I still don’t think this is a good idea.”  
  
It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate a doctor’s input, really. Matsumoto-sensei had some good points. But maybe this had been too enthusiastic. Maybe he should’ve started with one. They did, but then Kondou, eager to change things, had went out and request four more. Should he be worrying about more pigs, or how much they’d grow? And he’s definitely going to have to assign someone to clean the area out.  
  
_“Clean this or commit seppuku.”_ How’s that for being strict? He tosses the last of the scraps and brushes off his hands. They can’t even eat these pigs yet; it’ll probably be a few weeks—  
  
“Hijikata-san?”  
  
“Oh, Yukimura.” Either he was really distracted, or Chizuru’s gotten better about slipping around, unnoticed. He straightens his back.  
  
“Are those the pigs?”  
  
“Yeah. Kondou bought more today.”  
  
She looks towards them. “He’s really taking Matsumoto-san’s advice to heart, isn’t he.”  
  
“I guess so.” Hijikata sigh a little. “He means well, but now I have to find people to…take care of all this. Souji abandoned me.”  
  
“Oh…” Chizuru tilts her head. “Do you…want me do it?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“I don’t have many things during the day, I could feed them regularly.”  
  
Well, if she was offering…Hijikata looks from her to the pigs. Suddenly she looks very small, and he realises he probably has to say something. “If it’s just feeding. I don’t want you stepping in there.”  
  
“Ah, no, of course not.” One of the pigs bumps against the fence and jolts it, as if on purpose; Chizuru doesn’t jump but she does step away. “I could also prepare them, if you found someone to…kill them.”  
  
“Oh, you know something about that?”  
  
“A little, I read a book a long time ago…and my father, he would sometimes buy meat.” Her eyes clouded slightly at the mention of her father, but it passed as quickly as it went. “He said you had to be careful with pork, they have to be cooked all the way or else you could get sick.”  
  
Interesting. “No eating it raw, huh.” Hijikata holds his arms, sleeves falling over his hands. “I’ll leave that to you, then.”  
  
“I’ll do my best, Hijikata-san.”  
  
Well, at least part of his problems were solved. He watches her leave, and realises he’s come to depend quite a bit on her. Suddenly they always have tea ready, food wasn’t burnt or oversalted, and there’s definitely an improvement in the state of things.  
  
Actually—  
  
“Wait,” he hears himself say.  
  
“…yes?” Her voice is a little higher; she’s probably nervous that he’s called out to her.  
  
“Thank you, for offering.”  
  
There’s something about women, when you complimented them. Their face light up, and Chizuru is no different. She blushes and bows, and there’s a moment of regret when he remembers she’s still passing for a boy. He can’t even hire her for real to take care of things around here.  
  
“It’s no trouble at all. I’m happy to help.”  
  
Well, it’s certainly true she’s more eager than some of his own captains. Maybe he should bring it up, as an example.

****

**.end.**


	5. The Shinsengumi Code (Sannan and Okita, post rasetsu-transformation)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings for descriptions of seppuku as well as gallows humour.**

**.**

People say Hijikata Toshizou has the face of an actor—handsome, expressive, and edged—and that his hair was so dark it was nearly blue in some lights. They say many a thing about him, and comparing him to an oni was one of them.  
  
They haven’t seen him when he’s drunk, or when he’s looking up at nature and composing haiku in his head. They haven’t seen him in his early days, when he peddled medicine and he attacked with more aggression than necessary. They don’t see that he avert his gaze and the sweep of hair that hides the anguish and frustration, nor the deep-sated reasons of hows and whys.  
  
And this is why Sannan Keisuke is calm. Well, you’re supposed to be calm and collected during seppuku, but he doesn’t even feel any sense of trepidation. This act of saving face and honour is a long, long tradition, one that all samurai knew and kept in the back of their heads. Some made jokes about it, others had fears, but most readily accepted their failures and took this path as they were deemed. He went against the Shinsengumi code, and now he pays. He doesn’t hold that against either Kondou or Hijikata.  
  
White really wasn’t his colour, he’s decided, as he looks down at himself. Everyone else is in their usual garb, and he supposes this is like a final memory of colour before everything fades to black. When he glimpses faces, he sees no hate—only sadness, anger, confusion, acceptance, respect…  
  
And guilt. Hijikata looks straight at him, eyes practically burning. Anger and guilt in his narrowed eyes and clenched jaw, and Sannan remembers the day they set down that code. It had been Serizawa’s fault, but in some way, they had played into such a role, to make themselves succeed, to strike the fear of obedience into men.  
  
Now, he’s someone is fulfilling the consequences. How ironic that it should be so.  
  
Sannan finally looks away from Hijikata and towards Souji, who merely stands with his sword unsheathed, face a little distant but holding no regret. This is something he wouldn’t ask Kondou of, nor Hijikata, nor Heisuke. Souji kills candidly as long as he has a good reason, and performing kaishakunin isn’t going to weight too heavily on him. There’s something poetic about the Shinsengumi sword ending it all, after all.  
  
He finally takes his sword in hand, the blade beautiful and ready. It has taken many lives, and now it will take his. Drawing in his breath, he holds it, and make ready to plunge, and he looks at Hijikata again—  
  
_‘—nan? Sannan-san? Saaaaanan-san~’_  
  
Disorientated, he opens his eyes to Souji kneeling over him. Crickets are chirping, the moon is out—it’s evening and he is not dead.  
  
“Did I oversleep?” he asks as he pushes himself up and reaches for his glasses.  
  
“No, but you had a strange look on your face.” Souji leans back on his heels and loosely crosses his wrists over each other on his knees. “You were gritting your teeth.”  
  
He rubs his jaw, and finds it a little sore. No problem, rasetsu healing will take care of it. “A dream.”  
  
“Not a nightmare?”  
  
“No,” he answers, truthfully. “It was a…probability.”  He’s a rasetsu now and officially dead, but he could take again if stabbed in the heart or beheaded. “Did you need me for something?”  
  
“There’s something Hijikata-san wants to talk to you about. Something about the Corps.”  
  
“Please tell him I will be there shortly; I had some documents I meant to finish earlier.”  
  
Souji stretches and yawns, and Sannan is reminded of a cat. “Will do~”  
  
A pause, and he decides to ask a question. “Souji.”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“Do you ever consider the code?”  
  
“The code?” Souji shrugs. “Well, I know it by heart, like everyone here.” He counts on his fingers. “Don’t deviate from bushido, don’t leave the Shinsengumi, don’t raise money privately, don’t take part in litigations, and don’t engage in private fights. A lot it follow, but it weeds out the cowards and traitors, wouldn’t you say?”  
  
“Perhaps, but do you remember why they were founded?”  
  
“Of course, it was because of Serizawa-san. No one misses him.” Souji is now looking at him a little more closely. “But what are you getting at? Hijikata-san bends those rules for the captains.”  
  
That’s not…exactly true, but almost. Sannan-san carefully remembers at least two incidents where Souji’s cut it close, and ‘deviating from bushido’ is rather open to interpretation. “What would you do if you had to commit seppuku?”  
  
“Me? Well, I probably deserved it. Probably it just means that Hijikata-san doesn’t want me around Kondou-san anymore, so I’ll just say good-bye to the world.” The laughter bursting out of him right now is coloured in acidity. “But at least I won’t dishonour Kondou-san.”  
  
“I see.”  
  
“Heh. What’s gotten into you, Sannan-san? This is pretty dark, even for you.”  
  
He smiles, a thin drawing of his mouth. “Oh, you needn’t worry about me. I was merely reviewing some _possibilities_ for the future of the Corps.”  
  
“How horrible.” Nothing about Souji’s tone indicates that he’s horrified. “Is that it? Our oni-fukuchou might tell me to commit seppuku next if I don’t give him your answer.”  
  
“Yes, that’s it.” He adjusts his glasses, the dream already distant in his mind. It’s not real, and wouldn’t ever be. He has too many things he has to be doing right now, and he doesn’t intend to leave things halfway, especially with all the new potentials. “Good night, Souji.”  
  
“Good night, Sannan-san.”  
  


**.end.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t think I’d be writing Sannan, but here I am. Historically, he deserted, was caught, and committed seppuku with Souji as his kaishakunin/second (aka the guy who cuts the head off after the gutting part is done). No real reasons are stated as to why he deserted; there’s plenty of theories out there, with most fiction believing it was a long-standing conflict with Hijikata and Kondou. Hakuouki runs pretty straight to that, only they chose to use the rasetsu as the point of conflict later, though Sannan was already beginning to not see eye to eye with Kondou and Hijikata (as well as with Itou) regarding some matters.
> 
> However, as much as he had misgivings about Kondou and Hijikata, this early one, I don’t think he hated or resented them. They all understood why they did things and what their goal was. Before even ochimizu, they had some differing opinions. But they always respected each other, I think. It’s always fascinated me.
> 
> Another note is that historically, Sannan and Okita were close, and that there’s more accounts of them being close compared to accounts of Hijikata and Souji (because people can’t seem to agree whether they were like brothers or enemies or anything else). Not much of that is shown in Hakuouki but there’s like little incidents where it does show they trust each other and that Souji asks for Sannan’s advice (sometimes), or Sannan tells Souji things that clearly influence him. Again, just some interesting stuff that I was keeping in mind while writing this.


	6. The Ikedaya (Saitou, pre-Ikedaya Incident)

**.**

Summer battles were the worst. A combination of heat, insects, humidity, and sweat, added to armour and weapons, made for tiredness and short tempers. Kyoto was especially bad, swimming in the damp and thick air. They couldn’t have chosen a better time.  
  
And yet, for once, no one was complaining, because this wasn’t going to be some ordinary battle. Someone was carrying a load of leg guards, tripping in his haste while several others yelled at him to be careful. Used scraps of paper littered the place, limp from the heat and trampled under excited feet. He hears Shinpachi and Heisuke arguing about something, with Sano adding his comments. He knows that Kondou, Hijikata, and Sannan are enclosed in a room somewhere, finalising their plans.  
  
Finished with another set of exercises, Saitou sheathes his sword. Sweat trickles down his temple and neck, and he has half a mind to stick his head into the well. Of course, he’s not without restraint, choosing to use a cloth on his face, but he does hold it there a few moments longer until his head clears. Someone is going to faint tonight, probably.  
  
It all happened so fast, with the successful interrogation as well as the given information. Their first official raid, so to speak. He knows that some of the men here have yet to kill, and there probably will be more chaos and injuries than kills.  
  
Still, it’s not every day this happens. The Shinsengumi, with their unstable beginning, was now finally getting built up with better supports. They’re still carrying the name of Mibu wolves, but how long is that going last? They’re making a name for themselves.  
  
And he is a part of it.  
  
Saitou tips his head backwards, the heat and brightness of the afternoon sun hitting him full in the face. Hours later, it will still bet his hot, but in the dark, it can be more oppressive in closed spaces. He’s visited the Ikedaya before, with its narrow hallways and low doors. Tonight, it would be crawling with samurai.  
  
But that’s the unpleasantries that came with real experience, with real battles. Fighting isn’t in a silent hall with onlookers and someone counting your strikes. Fighting is loud, fast, and confusing, and you had to keep your head. There’s probably an idiot or two drinking before this, and they’ll learn soon enough it’s a bad choice. Who knows, they might even throw up. Such is the system of things and learning the hard way. He’s not without sympathy, but teaching a set of sword skills to someone cannot prepare them for the real. The real only comes from the real. He learned, and so they will learn, too.  
  
Whether or not today will be a win is still up in the air, of course. There’s a chance of overwhelming numbers or reinforcements, or a lack in skill that causes more deaths than necessary. There’s a small (very small) chance he’d die. But to win or to lose, history cannot forget today.  
  
Someone calls his name, and he rolls his shoulders back as he straightens up.  
  
Whatever the outcome, things will most certainly be different after today. Recognition has many sides to it, after all.

**.end.**


	7. The Tokaido (Hijikata and Kondou, pre-Reimeiroku)

**.**

Some people say they learn the most about others on a long journey, that it’s a time meant for bonding, camaraderie, maybe even a little adventure.  
  
Hijikata learns that he very much appreciates silence and solitude and _some fucking peace_ , because the past week has been none of that. If he wasn’t dealing with Serizawa’s lot and his attitude, he’s dealing with three idiots. It’s not that they weren’t competent. It’s not that they were bad people. It’s not that they were unreliable.  
  
It’s just that he realises he _detests_ travelling with more than two or three people.  
  
At least tonight they were at an inn with large enough accommodations for a good deal meaning he doesn’t have to see either Nishiki or Serizawa, and he doesn’t have to put up with Sano dancing naked (again), or listen to Souji making subtle remarks at him for one reason or the other.  
  
Maybe he’ll even drink; there’s no one here to laugh at his (in)ability. In this room there’s just Sannan, Kondou, and him. He just spent the past half hour drowning in a bath because it was actually quiet. Also because it decided to fucking rain today and they had to stop early. He’s just glad to finally be able to think.  
  
Supposedly with age comes patience, but he feels like he’s lost his in this span of a week. They’re only halfway to Kyoto and he has half a mind to go on ahead so that he doesn’t have to deal, but he knows the responsibility laying on him.  
  
“Toshi, are you there?”  
  
Besides, he’s not leaving Kondou to deal with this mess on his own.  
  
“I’m here, Kondou-san.” Towel still in hand, he leans over to slide the door.  
  
“Did you eat yet?”  
  
“Ah, no.” He’d forgotten about food.  
  
“Oh, perfect timing then.” Kondou balances a tray in his hands as he steps in. “Everyone else has except us, so—” Settling himself down, he flourishes a sake bottle. “I thought this was a good idea.”  
  
Taken aback, Hijikata frowns. “Kondou-san, you didn’t have to. I’ll pay you back—”  
  
“No, no need.” He sets down two cups between. “Just a one-time indulgence until we get to Kyoto.”  
  
Hijikata is already making plans, but he nods anyway. “Just this time. I’m buying the next one.”  
  
“Very well.”  
  
The sake is warm and so is the food. The variety is welcome after a week of onigiri, and some half-hearted attempts at fishing. He finishes the food faster than he intended, scraping up the last grain of rice.  
  
“Thank you,” he says. “Is Sannan-san with the others?”  
  
“He is. He told me I might as well not worry tonight, because we’ll be here until tomorrow.”  
  
“As long as this place doesn’t go up in flames.” Hijikata mutters this as he pours another cupful for him and Kondou. “I feel like I need another pair of eyes to keep on Serizawa-san.”  
  
“Gen-san and Souji are there.”  
  
“Souji, really?”  
  
“He doesn’t have his sword on him.”  
  
“I don’t think he’d need his sword for anything.” That’s like declawing a cat and leaving the teeth intact. But maybe just for one night he won’t have to worry. It’s raining, so setting a fire wouldn’t do much. Everyone arrived tired so maybe the old trio of Sano, Shinpachi, and Heisuke won’t even be drinking for long. He just really doesn’t want to see Serizawa for a few hours and hear his goddamn voice. “But I trust you.”  
  
Kondou laughs, a rueful smile lighting up his face. “I know it’s not easy.”  
  
“Leading? Heh.” He flicks a damp strand of hair out of his face. “This is why you’re going to be the main leader and why I’m supporting you.”  
  
“Toshi, you know that they listen more to you than they’ll ever listen to me.”  
  
“Only when I yell at them. They respect you more. They’re here because of you. Also, Souji—should we have brought him?”  
  
“Are you still doubting that?”  
  
“Kondou-san, he’s…” He’s Souji. If they left him behind, who knows what he’d do. Taking him along was the better option, but as of late he’s been… “Difficult. I’m just eternally going to be knocking heads with him.”  
  
“Hah, just like brothers.”  
  
“A brother he wants to _kill_. If he saw us now, he’d be pissed we didn’t invite him.” The sake burns his throat, as if agreeing with him. Okay, maybe Souji wouldn’t kill him, but he would resent him more, and there’s enough disagreements between them as is.  
  
“You know that deep down, he cares about you.” Kondou shakes the sake bottle, testing what’s left. “He isn’t very good with his words.”  
  
 _That’s not really his problem. The problem is that he was a brat and he still is one in some ways._ Hijikata doesn’t this say this out loud, merely grunting and snapping some fish bones with his chopsticks. “I’ll be amazed if we get to Kyoto without anything else happening.”  
  
“Is this about Serizawa-san?”  
  
“Yes, but—” he inhales, “I feel I’ll wake up someday and find that I’m dreaming all of this.” Meeting Kondou, meeting the others, living out some myth. “Kondou-san, did we really decide on this path?”  
  
“We did. You promised to help me, because—” Kondou narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. “ _‘I’ve decided to place my bid on you. I will push you up, and get you the fame fitting for you ability!’_ or, so you said.”  
  
“Heh, is that your best impression of me?” His head swims a little as he shakes it, and for a moment it feels like he can hear the rain in his mind, seeping into everything. “Kondou-san, that’s embarrassing.” Did he really say that a few weeks ago? He already feels like a different person.  
  
“Having second thoughts?”  
  
“Never.” He’ll never regret, but they have a mountain to climb. “I can’t doubt the one that I admire so deeply.”  
  
Kondou claps a hand on his shoulder, and it helps to keep him upright. “Then you and I will walk the rest of Kyoto, side by side, and it will all work out.”  
  
“Until Souji complains I’m taking up all of your time.” Side by side, huh.  
  
Swishing the last bit of sake in his cup, he drains it and feels the blood buzzing. That probably hadn’t been smart, but it’s been a while since either of them drank, much less had the time to talk without being interrupted.  
  
“We’ve already gotten this far,” Kondou says softly, finishing his cup as well.  
  
Hijikata plucks at the towel that’s fallen into his lap. His hair is mostly dry by now. “It’s thanks to Serizawa-san, as much as I dislike that man.”  
  
“Don’t say that like you didn’t play a part, Toshi.”  
  
“Not big enough of a part.” Absently, he rubs his forehead. “There’s more. There’s more for you and more for me to _deserve_. Someday, I’ll make sure we don’t have to depend on someone like him. We’ll depend on ourselves…” His voice trails off, and he suddenly laughs. “Damn, I’ve stopped making sense, haven’t I?”  
  
Kondou taps the bottle, and they watch it tip over. His face is flushed, and Hijikata has no doubt his own is the same. “Still more sense than when Harada starts dancing. Do you think he’ll grow tired of it?”  
  
“With Shinpachi and Heisuke in the same room? No.”  
  
Their shared laughter is loud, and he almost forgets about the rain and the few days. They’ll be back on the Tokaido tomorrow, but being reminded of their goals makes it feel less daunting.  
  
“Toshi.”  
  
“Hm?”  
  
“You’ll get your dream.”  
  
“As long as it’s with you, Kondou-san.”

**.end.**


	8. Sake (Sano and Shinpachi, after leaving the Shinsengumi)

**.**

“Sano.”  
  
“Yeah?” His head is filled to the brim with sake, and his arm is numb because Shinpachi is lying on it. Any amount of tugging isn’t working, so he decides to let it be. It’s amazing they’re still able to talk.  
  
“Someday, someone in the future is going to write about us.”  
  
“Really,” he deadpans, drawling the word. “Someone?”  
  
Shinpachi’s headband is slowly slipping off his hair. “Lotsa people. They’re going to love us, this time period, the wars, everything—and they’ll write all about our adventures.”  
  
“Us, or the Shinsengumi?”  
  
“I told you we’re not gonna talk about Shinza…Shine…about them tonight.”  
  
Harada easily bats the hand away that was coming up to hit his shoulder. “So they’re going to write about just the two of us? You’re saying that?”  
  
“Yeah! Just the two of us, the rebels. We left an’ we’re making our own mark now. We’ll be famous! More famouser than those other guys!”  
  
“Uh-huh. _Famouser_.”  
  
“Shut up, that’s a word. You don’t think that’s cool?”  
  
“I think it’s cool! I dunno if just us two can make it.” With a tremendous effort, he finally pulls his arm free and winces at the prickles in the limb. “We’re just two guys and their weapons and a bunch of sake right now.”  
  
“Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke.”  
  
“Our lives were a bad joke.”  
  
This isn’t very funny, but they both laugh anyway. Harada lets his head fall back against the wall with a loud thump, and the liquid in his mind sloshes with it. “Dedication’s not a joke, I mean.”  
  
Shinpachi rolls over, shoving bottles out of his way. “Wasn’t,” he corrects, “We’re deserters. A year ago, we’d be gutting ourselves.”  
  
“A year ago, things were different.”  
  
“Yeah, none of this vassal bullshit.”  
  
“It’s different for Kondou-san, though. He wasn’t like us.”  
  
“I know that. I remember me showing up first, and I was suspect…suspicious? Ugh.” Shinpachi finds an unfinished bottle and gulps, as if that would help him talk. “Suspicious. He was pretty damn strong back then. But now…”  
  
“It’s not there,” Harada finishes for him, sighing. “I know. Everyone knows. He knows, too.”  
  
“So why doesn’t he…see it? What we see.”  
  
“Dunno.” His own tongue was failing him. “He’ll have to. Soon. We can’t find the way we used to.”  
  
“I don’t want…them to _fail_.” Shinpachi smacks his hand against the floor, and someone bangs on the wall next to them. “I just can’t see things straight with them, but they’re…still good.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“They’re not shit at fighting.”  
  
“They’re not.”  
  
“It’s not fair.”  
  
Harada finds himself patting Shinpachi on the head. Goodness, what is his life becoming? “It’s not.”  
  
Shinpachi rubs his face on his sleeve. “Okay, I guess they can write about them. But there better be something about us in detail.”  
  
“You’re saying someone’s going to forget you and your great big head? Amazing.”  
  
“Shut up, Sano. They’ll cut out you and your stupid giant scar.”  
  
“That’s slander!” He shoves Shinpachi for that, and they half-heartedly exchange blows until one of the bottles shatters from a misplaced foot.  
  
“Fuck.” Shinpachi picks up a piece gingerly.  
  
“You’re paying for that.”  
  
He drops the shard. “Sanoooo, I paid for the sake…”  
  
“Half.”  
  
“Yeah, but I’ve got nothing on me right now.”  
  
It’s not Shinpachi’s attempt at a sad face that makes him comply, it’s that he’s too drunk to be arguing. “Fine, fine.” They’ve had six or seven bottles, but he does have a little more cash on him.  
  
“I still think we should’ve kidnapped Saitou and tied him in a bag.”  
  
“You’re still talking about that? He’d be out in three seconds and you would’ve lost your head.”  
  
Shinpachi shudders and puts a hand to his neck. “Yeah, that’s fair…but I’ll miss him.”  
  
“His money, you mean?”  
  
“You don’t have to put it that way! Yes, but also him. And Heisuke. And…everyone else.”  
  
“Yeah.” Where else he is going to find such a varied group, or a leader such as Hijikata? Where is he going to find comrades that always had his back, with a fearlessness and talent for fighting?  
  
“Sano.”  
  
“Hn.”  
  
“I think I’ll pay Shieikan a visit, after the war.”  
  
“You better take me with you.”  
  
“You’re talkin’ like you’re going somewhere else.”  
  
“Nah. We’ll make it out of this together first.”  
  
“As long as you don’t hit me in the back of the head with that great heavy spear of yours.”  
  
Sano snorts, and shoves him lightly. “As long as you’re not in my way, Shinpachi. I should make you carry my spear, just for saying that.”  
  
“What? No. I couldn’t. It’s yours.”  
  
“Yeah, if something ever happened to me, though…”  
  
He’s treated to Shinpachi roughly shaking his shoulders. “Don’t jinx yourself, Sano. We’re not in the public’s eye like them. And if you’re going, I’m going, too.”  
  
“Right, I know, I know.” He pulls Shinpachi off him. “You’re making me dizzy, stop.”  
  
They sound so sure of themselves. And maybe, they have to be. If you spent your days thinking it’s your last and dreading it, of course that day will come to find you fast. If you accepted it as an inevitability, but something that you greet as a final enemy, then it doesn’t bother you.  
  
Shinpachi finally flops next to him, their elbows bumping against each other. “I’ll make sure you get a whole chapter yourself, when they write ’bout us.”  
  
“What about you?”  
  
“Five at least.” He’s sliding lower, head heavily against Sano’s arm. Again.  
  
“What about Heisuke?”  
  
“Eh, he can have half a chapter.”  
  
“He’ll beat your ass for that.”  
  
“He can try.”  
  
The sake pulls them both towards sleep, and he has the feeling he’ll be dreaming about old times and old friends. Shinpachi is snoring, his arm is going numb like before, and he’ll have the worst headache tomorrow, but…they were in a better mood than when they had left the Shinsengumi two days ago.  
  
You cannot just walk away from something that’s been part of your life for so long, but you can speak of it fondness—and bitterness, too.

**.end.**


	9. Fire (Chizuru, post Kinmon Incident/Hamaguri Rebellion)

**.**

Kyoto burned.  
  
They reassured her the Shinsengumi headquarters would be safe, but that’s not the problem here. The air was thick and smoky, filling her throat and stinging her eyes. Even with all the doors and windows shut, it seeped in. The very sun is dimmed thanks to all the smoke, and it’s oddly silent because all the wildlife was hiding.  
  
There is also a sense of déjà vu that she can’t shake, no matter how she tries.  
  
Chizuru didn’t think she was afraid of fire. She knows how to start one, how to use it. She has a lamp right in her room, unlit, staring at her from a corner.  
  
So what was wrong?  
  
Fires happened aplenty, even in Edo, but never to her. She’d always been careful, as was her father. They both knew the dangers of leaving a light alone or a flame unattended. With all his books and medicine, it would do no good to be inattentive. She’s seen the aftermath of fires too, the skeletons and ashes, and the grief.  
  
Maybe it’s from the knowledge her father’s residence in Kyoto had burned, and that he was nowhere to be found. Or maybe it’s from the events of yesterday, which had left her unsettled. The men committing seppuku on Mount Ten’nou, the strange man that Hijikata had encountered…  
  
She thinks of his eyes and shudders. They were red, like rasetsu. A little darker, but something eerie nonetheless. And nevermind her own discomfiture, there was also how the Shinsengumi got treated yesterday by some of the superiors. Yesterday had not been a victory, much.  
  
Today, they were out dealing with the fires. And herself? Left behind once again. At least the place was clean, she had made sure of that. There were other menial things that she had completed, and now that it’s finally getting dark, she can sit and contemplate. Though that sometimes doesn’t end up as a good thing. Every day seems determined to make her feel smaller than she already is, and she wonders about her place.  
  
It’s not in Edo anymore. But it’s not exactly with the Shinsengumi, either.  
  
Feeling stifled, she decides to step out. The air isn’t better, but maybe a change of view will help. The fire made the humidity only worse.  
  
“Moping?”  
  
Chizuru nearly jumps out of her skin, not quite relaxing even when she realises who it was. Okita sits down without an invitation; she resists the urge to scoot away a little. “I-I just have a lot on my mind.”  
  
“And I’m bored, so you can talk to me.”  
  
“Ah…” Her mind draws a blank, and she hurriedly blurts out her first thought. “Did they make you stay?”  
  
“I said I was fine, and Kondou-san was going to let me, but—” He waves his hand. “Of course someone told me to stay, because he thought I sounded out of breath.”  
  
If she didn’t see his injuries during the Ikedaya Incident, she would agree, that he looks fine. “I’m sorry.”  
  
Okita twists a leaf between his fingers before crushing it with a loud crunch. “They can’t keep me here forever. It wouldn’t look good if one of the captains is consistently absent.”  
  
Just how much leading does he really do, though, she wonders. She barely sees Okita talking to the men of his division; they seem to look more to Hijikata. Even at Ikedaya, he’s always struck her as someone that prefers working alone or with one or two persons.  
  
“They’ll be glad to have you back,” she finally offers. Sometimes, it’s difficult to talk to Okita.  
  
“Except Hijikata-san. He probably likes me out of his way.”  
  
She doesn’t know what to say to that.  
  
“But maybe it’s better. I don’t have to worry about getting burned or ash in my eyes. I can sleep all I want, too.” As if to prove his point, he flops down and crosses his arms behind his head. “You should try it.”  
  
“I can’t.”  
  
“Why not?”  
  
“I…think I’m worried?”  
  
“For them? They’ll be fine. A little fire never hurts.”  
  
“Okita-san, I don’t think it’s a little fire…” As if to prove her point, the wind picks up and she covers her mouth, gagging slightly at the heavy scent. “I heard someone passing by say the imperial estate is on the verge of being destroyed.”  
  
“So?”  
  
“Doesn’t that concern you?”  
  
“If we were imperialists, sure.” He cracks one eye open. “But we’re Bakufu supporters.”  
  
“Oh, that’s right…but—”  
  
“Not that I really care. Emperor, Bakufu, as long as I can fight for Kondou-san, I’m all right.”  
  
Before she can ask anything about that, Okita sits up. “Oh, they’re back.”  
  
Chizuru starts. “How can you—”  
  
The sound of footsteps approaching enters her hearing, and she’s up on her feet.  
  
“Going somewhere?” she hears Okita calling out. “They’ll be here soon enough.”  
  
“To get some water,” she replies, heading for the well. No doubt Yamazaki will be there already, and the hopes that she can prove herself useful spur her on. Thank goodness she made food earlier as well.  
  
The first thing she checks for any injuries, and thankfully they seem few and small. The next thing she does is pass out water and food. The captains look all right, if not tired.  
  
Saitou nods his thanks, taking the water from her. “Thank you.”  
  
“You’re welcome.” She watches as he first cleans his sword, before he takes the haori and headguard off. Ash and dirt crumble when he shakes his head, and the fumes are heavy on his clothes. “Was it bad?”  
  
“Yes.” He doesn’t mince his words. “But there were more saved than perished.”  
  
“What about the imperial estate?”  
  
“The entire south part of it was destroyed.”  
  
“Oh…” Biting her lip, she sighs. “What about other people?”  
  
“They were evacuated, more or less.”  
  
“Then I think you did good.” As soon as she says this, she wonders if it’s too forward of her to congratulate. But a small smile makes its way onto Saitou’s face, and he nods before he excuses himself.  
  
She wanders a bit after that, exchanging small talk with Shinpachi and Sano, until she finally runs into Hijikata. He had been in discussions with Kondou and Inoue, and she hadn’t wanted to interrupt.  
  
“Everything all right when we were gone?” Hijikata, distractedly, rubs his sleeve over his face and streaks black over his cheek. It does nothing to mar his face; he looks as beautiful as ever. “You’ll be able to go out tomorrow.”  
  
“It’s all right, everyone was busy today.” She actually didn’t think about her father at all, too preoccupied with the fire. “Hijikata-san, did you run into those strange men again?”  
  
“Not today. Didn’t see much of anyone, they ran too fast.” Hijikata splashes water on himself, sighing a little. “But the Choushu are marked as enemies of the emperor now, so a lot of good that running’s going to do for them.”  
  
“Are the Shinsengumi pursuing them?”  
  
He raises his head, shaking the water off. “If they come back. But we’re not actively finding them one by one. That’s someone else’s job.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“Some good news, though—it looks like we’re getting more jurisdiction. All the way to Osaka, even.”  
  
“That’s wonderful!” So what happened over the past few days had helped the Shinsengumi reputation. “Will I…get to go as well?”  
  
Hijikata looks at her, taking a long gulp of water before answering. “You’ll need papers.”  
  
Disappointment flashes through her. And no doubt, the means she used to get to Kyoto likely wouldn’t work for this time. “I see.”  
  
“Yukimura.”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
He seems to hesitate for a moment, before giving her a quick pat on the head. “We’re still looking for him, too. If any of the captains see him, they’ll bring him back.”  
  
“Thank you,” she says, and she means it, thought she can’t help being a little disheartened. But that’s nothing to be done. She has to focus on what she can do, instead. “Hijikata-san.”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
She wets her lips, and tries to sound confident. “Welcome back.”  
  
It’s one of the rare times she gets to see bewilderment on his face, but he catches on quickly enough, and laughs. It’s a little drier than his usual voice, with the smoke having gotten into everything, but a real laughter that she wishes she could hear more often.  
  
“Thanks. Maybe you should make that a habit.”  
  
“I think I will.”  
  
There’s still an acrid scent on the wind, and everything is pointing towards a war, but at least she can, maybe, still call this place home for a while longer.  
  


**.end.**


	10. Treachery (Saitou and Shinpachi, post-Aburanokoji Affair)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to post this to ao3, lol

**.**

The name he is now using sounds clunky. Yamaguchi Jiro; the last time he had used Yamaguchi was before Shieikan. Saitou this, Saitou that. Hajime-kun to two, and Saitou-san to nearly everyone else.

There were those who accused him of changing sides according to mood, like a wind blowing wherever it pleases. He lets them speak; the captains knew what he had to do. Other men and words are irrelevant. Besides, this wasn’t a permanent thing. Sooner or later people will forget, and he’ll come and go as he usually does.

Today, Shinpachi visits with a message, but also an offer of getting dinner together. Saitou gets the feeling he’ll probably pay for tonight, but this is a common occurrence with Shinpachi.

“I should’ve seen it coming,” the other says, half of his meal already finished. “This isn’t the first time that you pulled something like this.”

He takes a sip of tea, and says nothing.

“Heisuke I could understand, but you…when you told us you’d be leaving and that following Itou suited your purposes more, I thought to myself, ‘What the hell, Saitou.’ But you lied so convincingly, so we just let you go.”

“If I had different orders, I would’ve told all of you. It was not my intention to deceive you, nor the other captains.”

“But twice. That time with Serizawa-san—you remember, don’t you.”

“I remember.” The rain, the anger, their fight, and the matter of resolve. “That was different. This time, it was to fool Itou-san convincingly.”

“Was it Hijikata-san’s idea?”

“Yes.”

“So…just you, Hijikata-san, Kondou-san, and Yamazaki.”

“Yes.”

Shinpachi shakes his head. “How was it? With them, I mean.”

Saitou carefully looks at him. “I did what I had to.”

“Fine, I won’t ask for details. And it’s pointless to ask if you ever really wanted to be imperialist. I know you that much, at least.”

He hides his smile. “I missed the company of you and the others. Heisuke and I didn’t talk very much, in case anyone suspected us of treachery on our part.”

“There are way too many levels of everything for me to deal with,” Shinpachi mutters, scooping rice into his mouth. “You fooling us to fool Itou. Honestly, I’m glad it’s you and not me, getting trusted with that.”

“I did what Hijikata-san asked of me.”

Shinpachi pauses, mid-bite. “You trust him that much, huh?”

“Yes.” Without a doubt.

“I don’t. I mean,” Chopsticks clatter as he sets them down on his tray. “Well I do trust him, but not the way you do. No one does, except maybe Yamazaki. I’ve always wondered about that.”

“About what?”

“Why.”

That’s a bit of a rather unexpected question. Saitou is silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts. Shinpachi leans his elbows on the table, chin in one hand.

“Because this is the place I have found for myself,” he finally replies. His hand, out of habit, touches his sword that he’s laid at his side. “And to the ones that have accepted me, I can’t turn my back on them. Especially to the one who told me that I was strong.”

“After all these years?”

“Some things do not change.”

“Yeah, you haven’t.” Shinpachi chuckles. “You’re still as hard to read as ever. It makes you perfect for this work.”

“Only because I’m needed.”

Shinpachi nudges him. “Don’t talk like that. The Shinsengumi will always need you.”

“I hope so.”

“But I’m glad that sorted out. Now you better start drinking, because I’m planning to beat your record tonight.”

Oh, _really_. Saitou gestures to one of the servers, before looking at Shinpachi. “I guarantee that you don’t.”

“Try me, Yamaguchi Jiro.”

“Saitou,” he says, “It’s fine if I am still Saitou. And if I win, you’re paying.”

“Deal.“

Deception or no, rumours or whatever else is going on around him, there are at least people he can always trust.

**.end.**


End file.
